


Its been a long life

by BetaBraun



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, vandermatthews
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-01-05 16:32:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18369836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BetaBraun/pseuds/BetaBraun
Summary: (Or YeeHonk according to my girlfriend)Some members of the Gang pester Hosea to tell a story about his life and how he met Dutch. Includes my favourite red dead 2 ship, VanderMatthews! This is an AU





	1. Pesky Pestering Gang Members

Hosea had leant up against a pole attached to Dutch's tent. He had given the younger man a book of his and was reading it to Jack. The kid was much like his father, but had the tendency to listen and learn. This particular book was of the knights of the round table, and Jack seemed very intrigued by the book about a group of men doing good deeds. Not much like the gang at all, but had similar morals.

Hearing Dutch read the book reminded him of the times he taught Arthur to read and write, and attempted to teach John to read. John was getting better at least, but the last time Hosea had taught him was when John was eighteen. The thought made him smile. Things had been simpler back then, when he was younger, Arthur and John weren't at each other's throats, and when Dutch had been less stressed.

"Hey! Hosea!" Hosea looked up, seeing Charles wave at him. Charles was sat amongst a group that included Tilly, Arthur, Abigail, John, Lenny and the newest member of the gang, Kieran. Hosea didn't mind Kieran all that much. Just a scared kid who looked up to the gang. It seems he had already won Arthurs heart with his innocence, as they were talking together, sharing laughs and their dumbest things they've done. Hosea huffed and went to the group, before sitting down by the fire.

Charles looked at him expectantly "Things have been so quiet. You haven't told a story in weeks!" he'd remark. Hosea gave a small snort of laughter "I've told you lot most of my stories anyways! Unless you want to know that Arthur attracted a bear and sent Dutch into a frenzy over it" he'd admit, causing Arthur to shoot him a look saying 'You dare tell them and I'll tell everyone you made Dutch try and eat a worm'. Tilly looked at him and gave a soft laugh. "Come now, Hosea. We all know that isn't true!" she leant forwards "How about how you met Dutch? You two have known each other for so long, but none of ya actually said how you met".

Hosea was taken aback a bit. He was planning on telling them at some point in the future, but not right now. "Well, uhm" he started, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. "I actually have to go do something, so uh..." he started to get up, before Charles stopped him, laughing. "You aren't going to fool us again with that, old man." Hosea swore inwardly before sitting back down.

"Come on, Hosea! I bet even the O'Driscolls would want to hear a piece of it" Lenny stated, Kieran nodding with agreement, hiding his laughter. Hosea felt utterly defeated. Of course, he was pressured to be a story teller by the younger members, as per usual. He threw his hands up "Alright, alright. You win" he noticed Abigail now looked rather interested in the soon to start story "But where to even begin?"

"From the beginning, Hosea, duh!" Tilly exclaimed, before handing out some drinks left close by thanks to Pearson. Hosea grunted and thought about where to actually start. His life in the mountains, or just when he met Dutch when they both tried to steal each other's pocket watch.

"Well, I could start from when I left the mountains and, I guess, stumbled upon Dutch" he mumbled thoughtfully, clearing his throat before beginning. 


	2. Miserable Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hosea recalls a memory about his mother and father.

_Hoseas mother brushed his cheek. Hosea forced himself to look at his mother. The poor damsel looked so thin, her eyes drooping and her breath shallow. Pneumonia had struck her rather suddenly. She was starting to get better before the winter storms came in, freezing her to the bone._

_"Remember Hosea, I will always guide you" she would whisper soothingly, her voice scratched from previous coughing fits. Hosea let out a small whimper. Just a few minutes ago, he had tried to get his father to join him on his mother's deathbed but he insisted he needed to hunt._

_'Fucking prick' Hosea thought bitterly, stroking his mother's hand. He had been cooking the food mostly, hardly taking anything for himself. During the time his mother was sick, he had grown tired and thin. His father would instead, come home with just a measly rabbit and stink of rum. The smell alone made him gag. Sure, his father was upset over his wife getting sick, and maybe not making it until mid-winter, but he has a terrible way of taking out his anger and grief, by threatening to kill Hosea. It became the norm for the kid. Threats. Beatings. He would retreat to his mother's side and find comfort._

_She had died a few days later, Hosea read to her whilst she fell asleep, dying rather peacefully. It was her favourite book. Talking about Mohicans, being the last of them and struggling for survival. They both shared ideas about it and how else they could have done things._

_Her death had brought his father to his wits end. His usual angry tantrums grew into a blind fit of rage, and he just had to endure it._

"Hosea!" His father's voice sounded from the cabin. He had been outside, skinning a pretty skinny rabbit. Leaving the carcass where it is, he went inside. Twelve years had passed since his mother passed away, and his heart ached with grief. Entering the cabin, he saw his father holding another thin rabbit, raging fire in his eyes.

"Is this all you fucking caught?!" he raised his voice, throwing the rabbit at Hoseas feet, causing the young man to flinch.

"It's the middle of winter! That's all I could find!" Hosea defended himself, looking directly into his father's eyes, unwavering.

His father snorted, before turning and reaching for his bottle of rum. Clearly this man was drunk beyond belief. The man took a huge swig of the drink, his fist clenching around it.

"If you weren't drinking every damn day, we'd be able to actually find food! But instead, you laze about!" Hosea snarled at his father.  _Wrong Move_. The man turned around; his eyebrow raised.

"What did you say to me, boy?" he asked, his voice clearly tight. Hosea took a deep breath, before looking back at the drunkard idiot.

"I said you..." he started, being abruptly cut off as he felt the bottle smash against his head, causing him to fall to the ground. Suddenly, a boot hit his gut harshly, causing him to have a coughing fit and gasp for breath.

"You will show me some damn respect, you little shit!" his father spat at Hosea "Now you better fucking find better food, or so help me, you'll join your mother!" And then, he stormed off.

Struggling to his feet, Hosea stumbled outside, clutching his head. He sat outside in the snow, picking up a handful of ice with his bloodied hand and holding it against his head, wincing at the pain. His stomach was churning from the kick and he felt like he could puke.

Once the pain from his wound numbed, he got back up and grabbed his bow. All he wanted to do was at least make his father proud. He decided to head back into the woods to try hunting a bit more.

It became dark rather quickly, and snow had started to fall. He hadn't found a single living creature and he has been out for hours now. Stopping to take a breather, he looked around. Suddenly, he realized he had no idea where he was, and it had started to snow pretty heavily. Fear overtook his senses and he tried following his own trail back home. But to his despair, they got covered pretty quickly. He pulled his jacket around himself tightly, gritting his teeth against the cold, his head starting to throb again.

Eventually, he decided to take a small rest and sat under a somewhat sheltered tree, hugging his jacket as tight as he could around himself and hugging his legs. He looked up at the sky, watching the snowflakes fall, noticing his vision had become rather dimmed, before eventually, he succumbed to the welcoming darkness 


	3. New Friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hosea gets found by a father and son whilst they traveled down the mountain side.

_ “And that, Hosea, is how you start a fire!” his mother exclaimed, beaming proudly at the campfire she had made. Hosea looked at it, his mouth gaped at the sudden warmth and the soft glow coming from the flame. _

_ “So, I do this...” he grabbed the flint and steel off the ground and struck them together, causing sparks to fly from the two pieces. The mother gave a small clap “Just like that!” she praised him. Hosea gave a childish grin. “It works with any steel you have, and flint is very common to find, so it wouldn’t matter where you are” _

_ “Thanks  _ _ for _ _  teaching me, ma!” Hosea sat up properly. His mother ruffled his hair gently “Anything for my little boy” _

_ Anything _

“Hey, Pa!” a boy, around the age of thirteen, exclaimed from  a cart . “There's someone under that tree!”

The boy's father brought the cart to a halt, before the boy jumped off the cart. 

“Careful  boy !” the father called out “Could be someone dangerous!”

The boy  crouched down next to the figure under the tree, his eyes narrowed.  _ Poor fella! _   He was about to leave before hearing a small grunt come from the figure.  _ He’s alive? _

“Pa! He’s still alive!”  the boy  called out to his father, causing the older man to jump off the cart and run to the two. Checking over the man, he took his own coat off and wrapped it around the man “Looks like he needs help” the father muttered, before heaving him into his arms and placed him in the back of the car t.

The  boy  jumped  up next to the man, his eyes wide with curiosity and worry. The cart soon set off again, at a faster speed. It jolted a bit, causing the man to waken a bit.

“Mister? Are you okay?”  the boy  asked wearily. 

The man looked at the kid, his eyes looked dull and tired.

The  boy  let  out a small huff. “What's your name?” he asked again

There was a short pause, before the man replied.

“Hosea...” he croaked out. 

The boy put the back of his hand on Hosea’s forehead, taking it away when he felt intense heat. “Pa, he's pretty feverish” he reported, scooping some snow from the ridges of the cart and putting it on Hosea’s forehead in hopes it would keep his temperature down.

The boy looked back at Hosea sympathetically. Lord only knows how long he's been out in the cold like that for, and the injury to his head looked rather serious. He prayed that Hosea hadn’t caught pneumonia, although at this rate, anything is possible.

The cart soon came to a halt outside a small homestead. The boy jumped out of the cart and watched as his father scooped Hosea up with ease, doubting the poor guy could even walk.

“Greta!” the man called out into the homestead. A lady came out of the house, her eyes widening, before rushing back inside into another room, preparing a cot. The man went inside and placed Hosea down.

“Where did you find him?” Greta asked, kneeling down beside Hosea, checking his pule and temperature.

The man gave a small sigh. “Out near the mountains. Dutch spotted him first. Probably some drunken fool” he grunted.

“Derrick!” Greta scolded him. She felt over the wound. “He doesn’t reek of alcohol, and this looks like it was done by a bottle” she mumbled, before leaving to grab some things.

Dutch sat beside the bed. For whatever reason, he felt sorry for Hosea.  _ ‘Someone must have been nasty  _ _ to _ _  him’ _  he thought bitterly. He vowed to himself that he’d help the poor man with recovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't really feel much for this chapter, since i had no idea how to introduce younger Dutch and his parents.


	4. Cold Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a little hard to write for me due to writers block. I did this all during college in hopes of actually getting it done. I promise the next chapters will be better, and I may revisit this one to improve it.

_ An arrow soared quickly through the air, hitting a stag through the neck. The stag let out a pained yelp before collapsing to the ground. Hosea stood  _ _ straight _ _ ; _ _ his eyes bright with glee at his first kill. _

_“Well done kid!” Hosea_ _’_ _s father congratulated him, ruffling his hair. Hosea grinned up at him before running to the stag. Seven years old and he was already killing his first prey. That was something to celebrate in that family. Hosea_ _’_ _s father followed after the boy, taking the arrow out of its neck and heaving it onto his shoulder._    


_“Remind me to take you out sometime to hunt some big bears. Their pelts are good for blankets” He said, handing the arrow back to Hosea._    
   
 _“Sure thing pa!”_

Hosea woke up in a cold sweat, his body trembling. His vision was still blurred and his surroundings were very unfamiliar. He heard murmurings beside him but couldn’t make out any words, but could tell one belonged to a kid, and another to a grown woman. Feeling somewhat safe, he let darkness swamp his vision again, feeling the trembling stop as he fell into a restless sleep.

Once he awoke, his vision was much clearer, but the trembling and cold sensation had not faded much. He struggled a bit to look around, his neck stiff after laying for god knows how long. He noticed a small dish with what he assumed was water inside and a cloth hanging on the side of it. To the left of the table, which the dish was set upon, a door which was slightly ajar. Ignoring the shrieking protests of his body, he forced himself to sit up, grunting a small bit with pain, before taking in his surroundings. The room was pretty small. Big enough to hold just a cot, a table, a chair and a wardrobe, but small enough that if he were to stand up and have his arms stretched out, he could touch the walls with ease.

Just as he had finished looking around, he heard footsteps approaching the room. Some fear shot through him before he thought  _ ‘They helped you, you idiot. Don’t be scared.’  _ he proceeded to think that over and over until someone came into the room. A tall woman with her hair up in a messy black bun. Looking at Hosea, she gave a small smile before pulling up a chair and sitting beside him.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, gently placing the back of her hand to his forehead. Hosea relished the moment. It felt good to be looked after for once. “I’m feeling a bit better, ma’am” Hosea managed the words out, not surprised at all that his voice sounded hoarse. The woman smiled and nodded. “The fevers gone down considerably. You’ll still feel its effects for a few days I'm afraid.” she got up.

Hosea watched her, suddenly wondering what happened. “If I may ask, ma’am, what is your name?” Hosea asked. It felt rude to not know his saviours name. The woman looked at him before replying “Greta.”

A few days had passed since Hosea had woken up. To his relief, the trembling sensations had stopped, but he still remained cold. Greta and her son, Dutch, had explained that he had gotten Pneumonia and that he was pretty lucky to be alive. Hosea had also learnt he had been unconscious for a week due to his injuries and his sickness. Derrick was cold towards Hosea at first, and Hosea noticed he would be away for days at a time. Dutch mentioned that his father was a soldier and was learning to fight. Eventually, Derrick had warmed up to Hosea after he had explained why he was in the mountains in the state he was in. To Derricks surprise, Hosea showed his worth with hunting, usually bringing food and hardly taking any for himself, despite Greta’s complaints.

Maybe he could finally get back on his feet properly and move on eventually.   


**Author's Note:**

> I don't often write fanfictions and keep putting them on Hiatus, but I am pretty inspired by this one thanks to a certain fanfictioner. I'll keep this one going until it ends. But I would like to know what you guys think of it so far!


End file.
